Shadows of Mercy
by avorialair
Summary: Under the twin suns of the planet Silranon, the Doctor and Rose discover what it truly means to be human. TenRose. Drama/Romance, slight Horror. WIP
1. One

**Author's Note**: This isn't really a "real" fanfiction. There's no introduction, no guises, no hidden message, no ardent passages of fevered writing or a plot that ran away with me. This is simple writing, right down to its core, and something that I just needed to get _out_ whilst on my hiatus. Whether you read it or not means little to me, but if you do, I hope you enjoy it. I'm also aware that many conventions used here are cliches, but I'm aware of them and I'm not looking to fix them. This is not SRS BSNS. This is fanfic, and right now, my mind just needs to wander. Here's what happens when it does.

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**Shadows of Mercy  
**One

In the beaming light of the twin suns orbiting Silranon, very few noticed the whirring engines of the TARDIS as it tucked itself neatly into existence. Fewer still paid attention to the pair who strode out from it in avid banter and those who were curious simply walked on.

"Yes, that was definitely a fantastic year," the Doctor was saying as he pulled the door shut behind him. "France, fifteenth century. Gorgeous."

"Leave it a bit before we visit again, though, yeah?" suggested Rose, who tucked her hair behind her ears as a warm gaze decided to catch it up. "The people were great, but I don't want to smell anything like that until my nose has recovered."

"Ah, you and your sensitive nose. The places I would take you if it wouldn't – "

He stopped and frowned, only just realising where he'd walked out into. The suns above gave a scorching heat, almost instantly demanding a heavy sweat from anyone caught out in it directly. The buildings, however, were tall and offered shade to most of the busy street, the shadow of the building coming together in a peak rather than following its shape – that was what came of having two light sources rather than one, and even for time travellers it was somewhat disorientating.

The street was lined with smooth pavements, the road between them a single, narrow lane. Bubbled vehicles bobbed along it as though being carried along by an invisible stream and either side there walked lines of people, whose clothes were simple and covered only the necessary parts of modesty. They were human, at least at first glance, but the skin had a strange blue hue beneath the natural surface and every person flaunted a head of thick, dark hair. The women were all slighter than the men, their bodies slimmer and paler than the other sex. Their feet, also unlike the men's were bare.

Rose stopped beside the Doctor and took in what the planet had to offer. With a small voice, she said, "Not Earth, then."

The Doctor reached up to the back of his neck, where already a thin layer of sweat had started to form. "Or if it is, it's ... changed. Dramatically. More than was necessary, I would say."

Rose, shielding her eyes, pointed up to the sky. "Got an extra sun, too."

"That too." He opened and closed his mouth, moving his tongue as though trying to rid it of a horrible taste. "Air's more coppery then the atmosphere on Earth as well. Yuck. Be glad your sense of taste isn't as good as your smell."

Pulling a face of distaste, Rose looked back to their surroundings. The TARDIS had landed right in the middle of a street, and all around them people flowed like water, barely even giving them a glance.

Frowning, Rose tugged on the Doctor's arm. "They're all walking one way."

"What?"

"Look!"

Sure enough, the pavement they stood on had people only walking in one direction: towards them. Across the road, shaded more by the building, there were people walking in the other direction. And something else became apparent, too. The buildings, all of them a dazzlingly bright white, all seemed to be of the same ilk. It was an entire street dedicated to clothes, judging by the windows, and not much more.

The Doctor, taking Rose's hand, pulled her across the road into the shade. The heat was still stifling, especially with the masses of people wandering to and fro, but it was better than being in the glaring light of the suns.

"This is very strange," he murmured, looking about them. "I mean – what _is_ this planet? Nothing I've heard of has sweltering heat, scantily clad bodies and streets all of the same shops."

Rose couldn't help a smirk. "You can't know everything, Doctor."

"No," he replied, missing the irony in her voice and responding in complete seriousness, "but I do know an awful lot, and this is just ... weird."

Just then, Rose let out a cry; one of the passers by had crashed straight in to her while walking and, rather than stopping to apologise, he'd barely even looked at her, instead continuing on his way. She stumbled a little and, had the Doctor not reached out to pull her back, she would have fallen into the road.

"Oi!" she shouted after whoever had hit her. "Watch where you're going!"

When faced with a wall of bare backs, none of whom seemed the slightest bit interested in her, it was hard to tell who had even bumped her in the first place. Feeling a little out of sorts, and slightly crushed by the impending heat, she backed against the wall of the shop behind her. It was surprisingly cool.

The Doctor touched her arm. "All right?"

"Yeah," she responded, smiling, but it was a little tight. "Just hot. And, you know, strange place."

"You want to... ?" He inclined his head across the road, where the TARDIS stood proudly in the sun. Against the fresh white of the buildings, and the pale skin of the people on the planet, she stood out rather like a flower in the middle of winter.

Rose shrugged. "We could stay for a bit. Find out what this planet is, at least. If it's one you don't know about, it's _got_ to be worth a look." The look she gave him bordered on flirtatious, her eyes sparkling even in the shade.

"None of that, thank you," he teased back. Then he frowned thoughtfully, staring up the side of the building behind them, its window proclaiming a sale of some kind. "I must have overshot the coordinates when I was trying to get back to your time. Just goes to show, you should always pay attention while driving."

"Doesn't seem to make much odds with you," Rose pointed out casually. "I swear half the time we end up somewhere other than what you say."

"Yes, well, it's very difficult, you know, piloting a TARDIS all on your tod. Meant to be more than just one of me doing the job."

"That's what you always say." Rose grinned; then it faded as she ran a hand over her forehead, her skin glistening with sweat.

"Blimey, Rose." The Doctor came forward, resting the back of his hand against her cheek. "You're boiling. I'm all right, got a self regulating thermostat. We'd better get you out of this heat."

Agreeing on his suggestion, she let him lead her into one of the nearby shops. Immediately a rush of cold air came to meet them and she instantly felt herself begin to cool. Telling the Doctor she was fine, they proceeded to look around.

The parallels with Earth shops were somewhat alarming. It was a clothes shop – all the shops on the street had been – selling attire fit for the weather outside. Though not looking seriously at anything to buy (the TARDIS would more than happily provide anything either of them needed), the Doctor did pull at a bikini-looking outfit and teased Rose about wearing it, given the heat outside. She promptly threw at him something that was little more than a loin cloth which, for some reason, made him blush and they both burst to laughing.

What was odd, though, was the complete silence in the place. Their laughter practically echoed off the walls and once they had calmed down, they noticed all pairs of eyes looking at them queerly. The Doctor cleared his throat, ducking his head as he pretended to examine the next rack of 'clothes'.

"You and I stick out like nobody's business," he murmured to Rose, who had joined him. He met her eye. "All this," he pulled at another article of clothing, "is ridiculous, but if we're going to stay we might need to think about looking the part. For all we know, wearing more than the bare minimum is some kind of offence."

She coloured evidently and dropped her gaze. "Could just go home," she muttered. "No offence, but I don't really want to wander around showing off bits of myself like that. I'm ... well ... " Her eyes briefly lifted to his, where all she saw was an open gaze, and the smallest, tiniest hint of adoration that he seemed to be letting out more often these days. Not being able to bear the look for too long, she looked down to the stone floor again.

"Yes?" the Doctor prompted when she didn't immediately continue.

"The women here, they're a lot – smaller – than... " And, to his dismay, she patted her waist.

"Rose!" he reproached in a low whisper. "Don't you dare, and I mean don't you dare, think about anything like that. Ever. You're gorgeous, and you should know it. Curves in the right places is what – "

He was interrupted by a shrill cry of desperation coming from across the shop. In and instant both he and Rose stood straight, following the sound of where the shout had come from. Near the entrance of the shop, and gathering a small crowd, were a man and woman. The man seemed somewhat irate, but the woman with him was beside herself with tears. She was held firmly in the grasp of two other, large men, their muscles evident from even across the room.

Then, apparently to everyone's surprise, the man stalked out of the shop, leaving the woman behind. She was screaming, crying, desperately trying to fight off her captors; they stood stoic, like statues, not even looking at her. They simply held her steady.

Everyone else in the shop suddenly looked away, shielding themselves from the commotion at the front as they busied themselves with the items on sale.

Rose found herself stalking over to he trio at the door before she could stop herself, and was surprised when she didn't feel the Doctor's firm grip at her arm; he usually tried to stop her intervening with distressing happenings on planets, sparking off about different cultures and rules and how one wrong to a human meant a right to someone else.

But she didn't need the Doctor to stop her this time. She'd barely taken more than a few paces when, before her eyes, the woman clasped between the men's hand vanished. One second she was there, the next, something seemed to ripple through her and all that was left was a slightly smoky residue, dispersing into the air. The guards, as Rose presumed they were, then took their places either side of the shop door again, acting as if nothing at all had occurred.

It had all happened so quickly that Rose herself wasn't sure if she'd seen it properly. The only thing that made her certain was the growing sickness in her stomach.

The Doctor came and stood beside her.

"I think I want to go home now," she said flatly, still staring at the place the young woman had been not seconds before. She then turned to the Doctor, whose face was as hard and grave as though carved from marble. "What happened? What did they do to her?"

He inclined his head just upwards slightly. "I think – they vaporised her."

Rose blinked, then gave a little, nervous laugh. "W-what?"

"That coppery taste, in the air? Gets a thousand times stronger when you vaporise something. Whoever she was, she's been sucked from reality and stuck somewhere else, probably zapped somewhere entirely ethereal. Stolen from reality in the blink of an eye. The coppery taste is the force of the energy dissipating."

The horror of it, mixed with the complacent reaction of the dwellers of the planet, filled Rose with more fear than she cared to show.

"We can't stay here," was all she said.

"No," agreed the Doctor, and they made towards the exit without another word.

From the cool air of the shop, the scorching heat outside seemed doubly intense. They stood in the threshold squinting across the road, searching for the familiar blue of the TARDIS' walls. All they saw, however, was more of the same streets, the same stark buildings reaching up into the heavens and the same streams of people moving up and down the streets.

The space where they had parked the TARDIS was empty.


	2. Two

**Author's Note**: This chapter ran away with me. I tried to end it at 2,000 words, but alas, it was not to be. I must admit, I am surprised by the reviews (that is, that it's getting any!) so thank you to those who are for that (: Everyone else, I hope you enjoy.

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**Shadows of Mercy  
**Two

"It's blue, very blue – you can't miss it. Don't you have security cameras or something?"

While the Doctor agitatedly fired questions towards the girl at the counter, Rose looked on with worried interest. The first idea had been to ask people on the street if they'd seen the TARDIS or what anyone had done with it, but every attempt that was made to communicate was ignored. Eventually they had given up, returning to the shop and asking the cashier, who was now looking rather frightened in face of the Doctor.

"I'm sorry sir," she said for about the fifth time, her eyes trailing the line of his clothing as if in confusion, "I can't help you."

"Doctor," Rose interrupted quietly, touching his elbow, "I don't think she knows anything."

"Well, _someone_ must," he pointed out reasonably, his voice rising ever so slightly. "It didn't just disappear all by itself. No, what we have here, Rose, is thievery. And I don't like thieves, as a rule."

"If I may," came the timid voice of the cashier, and they both turn to her. She shied away a little, but continued nevertheless. "Owning any vehicle other than what you've been assigned is prohibited."

The Doctor's look was of frowning scepticism, his voice betraying his worry. "'Prohibited'? Since when has owning your own method of transport been prohibited?"

"I don't make the rules sir, I just follow them," replied the worker tersely, then sharply turned her attention to a customer who was waiting behind them.

The Doctor allowed himself to be led away by Rose, who was battling her own bouts of worry as it was.

"This is a very strange planet," he mused quietly, his looks towards the locals severe.

"Look, let's think about it," Rose said, stopping just by the door of the shop. "The TARDIS is missing, yeah? And given what girl said, probably taken away by some kind of authorities."

"Yes."

"Well don't you think they'd come looking for you?"

The Doctor hummed and glanced to the streets outside, where the shadows were starting to lean to one side; the suns were setting.

"I'm not sure," he admitted. "I'm not sure about anything on this planet. Usually the places I visit all seem to share one thing in common. You lot call it humanity, but it's more than that; I've always been able to at least communicate to _somebody_." He looked back into the shop, and an oddly sad look crossed his face. "These people, it's like talking to a wall. I can't get anything off them. No emotion, no empathy. Nothing."

"Except for that girl... "

"Yes." He nodded thoughtfully, looking at Rose with a sombre glint in his eye. "And look what happened to her."

They were stood just outside of the shop, but not so far as to intrude on the people walking past them. During their conversation the Doctor's eyes had been caught a few hundred feet ahead of them where, working backwards through the crowd, a man clad in a heavy, maroon robe was walking. Towards them. His sentence trailed off as he turned, looking in the other direction, and he saw in amongst the faces passing by another man, in a similar coloured robe, also walking towards them.

"Rose," he breathed quietly, reaching for her hand. "Those authorities you were talking about... I think they found us."

Rose practically shrank into his side as he automatically shielded her from the crowds. Her hand was hot in his, and his double heartbeat began to race.

"They don't look too friendly," she said as the hooded figures got closer, their faces indeterminable. "Maybe ... we should ...?"

"Run?"

She nodded fervently. "Yeah, that."

"Okay. Count of three. One. Two – "

A sharp cry rang out just ahead of them and, to each of their surprise, a broad man burst from the sea of people and ran out into the road. Immediately the two hooded figures reacted, sweeping between the people as though mere figments. One of them passed right by the Doctor and Rose, ignoring them both, instead joining his companion just beside the pavement. The travellers outside seemed barely to notice, just continued on as though nothing was happening.

"Oh, God," Rose said, ducking into the Doctor's chest. "It's the girl in the shop all over again."

He held her close to him, watching with a kind of stunted awe that made it difficult to do anything. That was until the chap in the middle of the road turned and looked right at them. His eyes, dark and hollowed against the paleness of his face, met the Doctor's almost in warning. Despite the figures at the side of the road, he just stood there. Like he was waiting.

"Come on," the Doctor said, releasing Rose and taking her hand instead.

She pulled back against him. "But – "

"Just trust me." He turned, his look imploring and his words soft. "I won't let anything happen to you."

She nodded. They ducked between the people on the streets, a strange sense of imminence overcoming them both. The heat of the sun beat down upon them, making Rose's clothes tight and restrictive. Each of them dodged past the robed figures, whose close presence filled them both a quiet kind of anxiety, and without barely a thought or a care they, too, ran out into the road.

The man ahead of them was already pushing through the crowds up ahead, his movements fast for someone so large. He was fit, certainly, but it would have been difficult to miss him, even if he was wearing much the same as everyone else on the streets.

The Doctor and Rose didn't have time to think about whether their following him was a good idea: jumping out of the way of passing vehicles, which barely bothered swerving to avoid them, they found themselves on the other side of the road and ducking into a small alley. A brief look over their shoulders confirmed that they were still being followed, but as they returned their gazes a harrowing realisation that they were in a dead end came to them.

It was one of the few times Rose ever heard the Doctor swear, at least in her tongue, and the urgency with which he said it gave her more warning than anything further verbal would have done.

With the two guards fast approaching, there wasn't much more to do than surrender. However, just as the robed men reached the mouth of the alley, baring things that looked nastily like taser guns, there came a whiser, seemingly from the ground.

"Psst! Over here!"

The Doctor turned, seeing – concealed in the corner by shadow and a large pile of rubbish – a hole in the ground from where a hand was poking out. He didn't need telling twice. In a split second he and Rose found themselves beside it, Rose slipping down into the darkness and the Doctor lowering himself in behind her.

The drop wasn't far, a few feet if that, and their feet splashed into trickling water. Their guide, concealed now by the darkness beneath the streets, reached up and pulled a cover over the hole. They were thrown into complete blackness, their clasped hands the only form of contact with one another. However, this was soon remedied as the catch of a lighter resounded through the air and, slowly, a spark of light flickered in front of them.

It seemed, for the moment, that they were safe.

Against the shadows the light was casting on his face, it was clear the man in front of them had once upon a time been attractive. But he was haggard with the stress of age, his features young but drawn in a way as to suggest long years, and a life that barely left time for fun and frolics. With a hard, sharp expression he considered them both, most notably taking in their clothes.

"I have no idea who you two are," he said, his voice rich but stale, like black coffee left to run cold, "but you should go back where you came from. This isn't a place for either of you."

The Doctor raised a slow eyebrow, responding drily, "Well we'd like to. But someone's stolen our transport. Any idea who that might be?"

The lighter was flicked off again, the air around them cold as well as dark. Then footsteps, heavy and against the small trickle of water, and going in the opposite direction.

"You can't just leave us!" Rose found herself crying, before she could stop herself.

"Then follow me," replied the bodiless voice evenly, and without much else to do, they did.

They were led, through the darkness, around a series of small passages running underneath the city above. The Doctor had his own ideas on where they might be, but he kept them to himself for the time being. Gradually the corridors began to even out, until eventually shadows of light could be made up ahead. Their guide disappeared through an open doorway, where the sounds of commotion could be heard echoing all the way back down the tunnel.

Rose paused beside the Doctor, her hesitation underlining his fear that they were somehow caught up in something far bigger than themselves, and they wouldn't be free of it for a long time.

"Doctor, I don't like this," she said timidly, releasing his hand and turning to him.

He could just make out her form against the shadows and, not knowing what else to do, he pulled her into a hug.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to her, her warmth about the only comfort he had at the minute. "Rose, I'm so sorry."

When she pulled back, her tears could be heard in her voice. "Do you even know where we are?"

The burden of her worry added to his hearts, he let out a small breath, reaching to touch her cheek gently. "No. Not even any guesses, this time."

"But what are we going to _do_?"

He felt himself frowning. "I don't know. But we'll think of something. We always do."

They walked on together hand in hand, rounding the corner and crossing the threshold of the open doorway. The sight that met them made them both stop in their tracks. The room was full of people, their ashen skin and low tones almost akin to the walking dead. A fire was crackling in the middle of the room, but there was no warmth from it, its sardonic light throwing devilish shadows along the floor and walls. Huddled in corners, as well as groups further towards the middle of the room, were bands of people. Most of them were women, their faces scared and their eyes hollow and sad. It was as though they'd never seen sun.

Just ahead them was the man they'd seen running through the street. He was conversing quietly with a woman, whose striking appearance made it quite clear there was something demonstrably different about her to the others. The pair of them glanced over to the Doctor and Rose, and the woman nodded. The Doctor's hand tightened around Rose's fingers as she approached.

"You don't need to worry," she said in a level voice, evidently sensing fear somewhere within them. "You're quite safe here."

"I don't think there is such a thing on this planet," the Doctor retorted fiercely, automatically stepping forward, in front of Rose. "It's like we've walked slap bang into the middle of Nineteen Eighty-Four."

The woman frowned, but it passed. "You're not from here, are you?" Her gaze fell to their clothes, to their mussed hair and flushed faces, to their stances. All of it so different from others in the room. "You don't fit. You look human, but you're not."

The Doctor's eyes narrowed, suspicion budding within him. "What is this planet?"

"Let's get formalities out of the way first, shall we?" She gave a brief smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. She looked just the same as the rest of the women; dark hair and pale skin. But somehow there was something incongruous about her that stuck, something that separated her from the others. "My name is Isabelle, captain of the freedom fighters. This is our base."

She began to walk slowly around the room, signalling for the Doctor and Rose to follow. "I'll assume you're outsiders for the time being. You can explain later who you really here. Over here is my cohort, Alex; he led you here from the streets above."

In better light, Alex's form was certainly clearer. A thin scar was cut deep into his cheek, and it glistened slightly in the dim light. He nodded at the group as they passed, but turned his attention back to a small group of women huddled on the floor, where he was speaking softly to them. They shied away from him almost like animals.

"What is this place?" the Doctor asked, astounded.

Isabelle stopped and turned to them both. "You really don't know where you are, do you?"

"We're travellers. Just passing through," the Doctor explained, meeting her eye. "I've got a ship, looks like a blue box. She was taken while Rose and I were exploring."

"Why did you choose to stay?" Isabelle seemed entirely uncomprehending. "Anyone with a chance – a real chance – to get out of this place should have taken it when they had the option."

"Yeah, well," Rose piped up, her voice somewhat hollow against the emptiness of the vast room, "we didn't exactly know, did we?"

"She's right. We were supposed to land on earth, twenty first century."

Again Isablle looked somewhat taken aback. "Humans haven't colonised earth for thousands of years," she said quietly, looking between them curiously. "This city is all that's left, on this planet at least. If you came here by your own means, it's likely the Senate will have taken your transport as their own. Nothing comes in or goes out of these walls." Then she gave a real smile, something that housed a wicked humour. "Supposedly."

Immediately the Doctor became more animated, a chance of escape laid out before him. "The Senate? They're the people in charge?"

Isabelle snorted. "If you can call it that."

Rose, who had been busily looking around them, suddenly interrupted. "What's wrong with them?" She was indicating the groups of women, who were huddling together as though for dear life. "They look as though ... I dunno, they've lost their souls, or something."

"Nothing quite as fanciful as that," Isabelle returned easily, but her voice was grave. "Their partners have abandoned them. Poor things, there's nothing they can do. Once that connection gets broken there's often nothing left to save. I sometimes wonder if we shouldn't ... "

She trailed off, shaking her head, then glanced apprehensively over to where Alex was now standing.

"Shouldn't what?" the Doctor asked, noticing her look and lowering his voice.

"Very often, when a man rejects his woman partner, their connection is severed. A woman like that is useless to society, so society deals with her appropriately."

"And how do they do that?" He was very serious now; his back was tensed and his mouth seemed set in a steady, thin line.

Isabelle shrugged casually, her tone betraying nothing of any horror she might have felt. "They expel them. From existence. What you see here is what happens to the women we save, who we rescue from above ground before they're held down and forced into death."

Rose turned, wide eyed, to the Doctor, her face clearly showing just how ill the thought alone made her. "That woman we saw in the shop ... "

"We couldn't get to her in time." Isabelle's voice was laced with sadness, but it seemed forced, as though she were reacting because she had been taught to feel that way. "But looking at those we have here – I sometimes wonder if it isn't better. There's no life for them down here. There's no life for any of us, anywhere."

"Better to die than to live in a world of demons," the Doctor agreed quietly, and Rose couldn't help but feel he was quoting from somewhere.

"God, this is so wrong," she muttered, bringing a hand to her face. The Doctor looked over to her, but she couldn't meet his eye. "I mean. In my time, back in London, things aren't exactly great. But are these women slaves, or something?" The last comment she turned to Isabelle, the embers of a strange, protective passion coming alight in her. "Aren't there resistances? Organisations? Someone's got to fight against it. You can't treat anyone like that. People are worth – more than that."

Her voice was beginning to crack, as though weighted down by her thoughts, and the Doctor came over to her. He took her hand, but didn't say anything.

"This," answered Isabelle, indicating the room, "is all we are. Some underground tunnels beneath the system. It's not much of a life, but it's better than up there, living like a drone."

The Doctor inclined his head, tongue resting at the top of his mouth as though he were deciding on what to say. "So, Isabelle," he said smoothly, using her name as though trying on a new outfit. "What's your story? Where do you fit into all this?"

As if in answer, she held up her hand where, on her fourth finger, there shone a thick, metallic band. It could have almost been a wedding ring, except the metal was far too harshly cut to be considered one.

"I'm Alex's," she said simply, and at the mention of his name the man himself came over.

Rose looked bemused. "Sorry, what?"

"I'm his. I belong to him." She tapped the ring carefully. "Without this I'd just be quiet and mindless. But when he took me as his partner, he gave his strength and intelligence, which flows through me."

Rose could feel that sickness returning to her. A thought, a realisation, was dawning on her, but she could quite get to it. It was so intangible in the face of what she was seeing.

"God, you _are_ like slaves," she said before she could stop herself. Next to her, the Doctor tensed, and she knew she had made a mistake.

"This is very new to her," he continued quickly, his eyes so wide the whites around his pupils could be seen. "Very new to both of us. We're not – where we're from, things are different. We're not used to how things ... work here."

"In partnership we are strongest," Alex said, his voice thick. "Women are useless without a man to guide them. It's why they fall apart when we leave."

Had the Doctor not been standing right there, giving her hand a somewhat forceful squeeze, Rose would have probably continued to say things she would regret. As it was, she simply had to look away and bite her tongue, suddenly very glad for the independence she'd been allowed back home. Her instincts were telling her to shout and scream about how wrong this place was; to approach the women and remind them who they were, that they didn't need men to define them. But on a different planet things worked differently, and she'd learnt from the Doctor the best way to tackle a problem was not by shouting at it and hitting it with sticks.

The Doctor cleared his throat. "Do you have contact with the Senate?" he asked, quite evidently changing the subject. Rose let her anger ebb away from her, but it remained on the outside of her consciousness, a tide that was out at sea.

"No," said Alex, leaving Isabelle's side. "The Senate are separate from the city. They leave us to our own devices – the people here are only useful when it's time for the couples to be called away."

"And what happens then?"

Alex and Isabelle exchanged a glance, before she said, "Nobody knows. They never come back."

"However," continued Alex, apparently not wishing any of them to dwell on it for too long. "These tunnels are long, and they reach further out than the city walls. We can take you the perimeter, if you want, but after that you'll be on your own. We aren't allowed out of the city's barriers."

"Oh, and you just stick to that rule, do you?" the Doctor replied tersely.

Alex's shrug was simple, without care. "They kill us on sight."

"So, hang on," interjected Rose, disliking the idea of leaving the city more and more, "if they kill you, what's to stop them from killing us?"

"That's a risk you're just going to have to take."

"If you don't mind," the Doctor said, his voice verging on cold, "I'd like to have a word with Rose. Alone. We've barely been able to stop for breath since we got here."

Alex and Isabelle agreed, wandering over to the far side of the room and settling next to the smallest group of women, whose whimpers were quiet in the dark. Gently, the Doctor pulled Rose to one side, speaking as he watched the couple on the far side of the room.

"Looks like the only way we're getting out of here is if we find a way to the Senate."

"What, and get killed trying?"

His eyes swivelled back to her, sharp and questioning. "I could always – "

"Don't you dare," Rose reprimanded, no room for teasing in her voice. "I know what you're going to say and just don't. We go together or not at all."

The Doctor nodded obediently, his eyes still drawn. "Which is it, then?"

"Well, it's not like we've got a choice ... Much as I hate walking into my own death, staying here ... " She glanced around them, at the stranded bodies and the flickering fire. "We've got to go."

"All right. Then let's go."


	3. Three

**Author's Note**: Gratuitous bitch!fight scene? I don't know what you're talking about. This chapter shorter than the previous, but that's just how the chips fall I'm afraid (:

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**Shadows of Mercy  
**Three

The path they followed out of the city was long and winding and, for the most part, conducted in darkness. Isabelle had chosen to stay behind with the stragglers from above, so it was Alex leading them with heavy footsteps. The Doctor and Rose followed closely behind, occasionally bumping into each other and, at least once, slipping in the trickling water.

The smell was almost unbearable. Rose tried very hard not think about what it was she might actually be walking through, but given what was currently attacking her nostrils it probably wasn't anything she would be happy seeing; her trainers would need a good scrub down when they got back to the TARDIS.

_If_ they got back to the TARDIS.

Suddenly Alex stopped and, pointing through the shadowy light of the flame, he indicated a rusted iron ladder. Ahead of them the tunnel was blank, the wall completely closed off.

"Up there, through the manhole," he said simply. "Make sure you block it off once you're through. And good luck."

He didn't even wait for goodbyes from the pair; instead he just stalked off, throwing them all into complete darkness. When his footsteps had died away, and all that could be heard was a steady drip, drip, drip, the Doctor murmured, "He was a strange one."

Rose shivered. "You're telling me."

It didn't take long to climb the ladder and push away the heavy cover of the hole. Within minutes the Doctor and Rose were scrambling up, once again out into glorious sunshine, though by now the lower trajectory in the sky made the air much more cool.

The land outside of the city couldn't have been more different. The tunnel, as Alex and Isabelle had said, led them right to the edge of the city; when they climbed up, they were just beyond a wall that was metres high and impossible to see behind, let alone climb. Faint sounds of commotion could be heard beyond it, but aside from that, it was completely sealed off.

The rest of the planet seemed much more inviting. Rich, green scenery, somehow untamed and wild and slightly incongruous next to the thick stone of the city's outer walls. Birds – or bird-like things, in any case – squawked and flapped in the sky, some roosting in nearby trees. There wasn't a path to follow, as such, but the grassy ground was littered with all kinds of small stones and flowers and there was an essence of such peace about it all that the pair of them began to wonder if what they'd seen beforehand was actually real. Even the air tasted different, more normal

It was like being swept from Kansas to Oz without the hurricane.

"Well," was all the Doctor could muster as he looked around. "I don't know what I was expecting, but this was certainly not it."

Rose glanced around almost in bemusement, from the wall to the slight sloping hill ahead of them. "But – wh – how?"

"I don't know. The plot thickens, or perhaps the mystery in this case. Come on."

She trotted up alongside him, his long strides already taking him up to the brow of the hill.

"Where we going?"

He pointed distantly into the sky. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but that plume looks rather – well, plume-like. And where there's smoke. . ."

He left the sentence hanging, his eyebrows wiggling invitingly as he held his hand out to Rose. She took it with a smile, the cool air and the open landscapes exciting within her something fresh. She loved the feel of the Doctor's fingers between hers; somehow they were entirely comforting, even when it was all she had to hold on to.

They walked for a while. There wasn't exactly a path to follow, but the Doctor seemed to know (or at least give a good impression of knowing) where he was going, which let Rose walk easily by his side. Though the warning from Alex and Isabelle never quite left her mind, she find it hard to believe that a planet with such beautiful country could really house aliens that would kill people on sight. It wasn't as though they'd seen anyone yet, anyway.

She kept having to glance behind her, back towards the slowly retreating wall, to remind herself of where and the Doctor had been not long before. And as the memories filtered back through the happiness of freedom, a thought began to itch at her nerve endings and wouldn't let her go. Eventually it just bubbled up out of her, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

"What are we going to do?" she blurted out as they walked.

The Doctor, who was in mid sentence about something to do with blueberries, stopped. "Well, I imagine slip in, steal the TARDIS and run away. Or something like that."

"No, I mean." She looked up at him, her eyes full of worry. "The people back there. We can't just leave them."

"Well, we can't take them with us. Infinite walls and all I know, but it would be a little cramped."

Rose sighed heavily. "That's not what I meant, and you know it."

The land had given way to a woodland forest. The suns beyond must still have been shining brightly, because everything from the leaves to the ground beneath their feet seemed lit and colourful, as though a child had coloured in the surroundings. It was here that they were walking slowly, undisturbed by the gentle noise of the woods.

The Doctor kicked at the floor with his shoe, a habit he'd picked up lately when he didn't want to approach the subject at hand. "I don't know what you want me to do," he said simply, without any room of negotiation in his voice.

Sometimes, Rose thought, it was like talking to a child. "Well, I don't know," she almost snapped, coming to halt. "It's what you do, though, isn't it? Waltz in, save the day."

The Doctor too had stopped, and now he faced her, his face impassive and an eyebrow raised in her direction. Rose felt herself practically shrink; she didn't like that look he gave her, as though she should know better, and usually is just served to make her more angry.

"There's nothing to save."

That, combined with what she'd had to bite her tongue about below the city, just about did it for Rose.

"Oh, and I suppose next you're going to say there's nothing actually _wrong_ with how the women are being treated back there. How _all_ of them are being treated. Did you even look at them, Doctor?" She tried to make him look at her, but instead he was giving a hard, open-mouthed gaze to a bush nearby. "Well, did you?"

"Yes," he retorted tartly, eyes swinging to her, and Rose had to admit she was a little taken aback. It wasn't often she was afraid of the Doctor and she wasn't really afraid of him now, but sometimes when their debates turned into fights like this she imagined the kinds of things he could be capable of. At times, it made it hard to love him. "And do you know what I saw?" He advanced towards her, his eyes fixed on her, as solid almost as steel. "Just . . . humans. Doing what humans do. So no, Rose, I'm not going to 'do' anything; this planet has its own rules and its own evolutions and just because you or I think something is wrong doesn't give _either_ of us the power to go meddling in it."

He began to walk off again, but Rose caught him by the arm, completely exasperated by the train of logic she couldn't seem to catch. "But that's what you _do_," she insisted fervently, wondering why it felt like she was trying to reason with him. "You protect people like them, the innocent people, from everyone else who's trying to put them down. Meddling in things you think are wrong is _exactly_ what you do." She stood straight then, looking him right in the eye. "So don't you dare go feeding me some cock-and-bull story about how you 'can't' do anything. 'Cause it's not about can't, Doctor, it's about won't. And how you pick and choose who you're gonna save is something I'll never understand."

Her words resounded in the forest around them like an echo that wouldn't come back, and she wasn't immediately sure if she regretted the harshness of what she'd said or not. She'd hurt the Doctor, that much she could tell. He looked away from her, almost through her, and seemed to be grappling with his response. Eventually he gave a laugh, one of the cruellest sounds she'd ever heard from him.

"You have no idea," he chuckled bitterly, shaking his head with apparent disbelief. Then he looked up and she really wished she hadn't said anything at all. "I'm not God, Rose. I can't walk in and tell people how to live their lives, how to control their slaves or how to fight for their freedom. I know it looks like I can, but I can't. That fight you see in me, that courage that stands up for the little man . . . it's only ever there when a planet's timeline is in jeopardy. When things are actually _wrong – _ that's the only time I can ever fix anything."

"So the way those people back there are treated," Rose demanded, pointing back up the path they had come, "isn't wrong? 'Cause it looks wrong to me, Doctor."

His hands flew to his face, fingers rubbing his eyes tiredly. "You're missing the point," he replied aggravatedly. "You always miss the point."

"Well, fine," said Rose, storming past him. "If that's how you feel, then fine."

She knew she was overreacting. She knew flouncing off and leaving him to it was childish and immature. Logically, she knew this. But somehow she couldn't stop her feet from pacing, or her back from turning to him, or the tears from burning in her eyes, blurring her vision. And she hated it.

His sigh was loud behind her, but he made no attempt to follow her.

"Rose," he called instead, his voice stern but tired with it. "Come back here."

She whirled around, all blazing heat an sorrowful passion. "Just stop it," she retorted, sniffing hard. "Stop _ordering_ me around. I'm not some pet following everywhere you go."

"I know that." The Doctor approached her, but she took a step away from him, not wishing to be calmed into submission by his willing gaze. "You're overreacting," he said calmly.

"You won't help them."

"It's not won't, Rose. I promise you, it isn't."

When she looked into his eyes, she saw a flicker of something that hadn't been there a moment before; it felt like with words he was willing her to understand, but his gaze said something different altogether. And why should _she_ be the one willed to understand?

"God, are you even _listening_ to me?" she cried, flinging her arms out to her sides in distress. "Are you listening to yourself? I'm just asking you to . . . "

Her sentence tailed off as, suddenly, the entire forest closed in around her. Shadows loomed in front of her eyes and it became exceedingly difficult to concentrate on keeping her eyes open. Her vision blurred. Stumbling a little, she threw an arm out to catch the nearest thing to steady her. Then her head erupted into screams and nothing else mattered.


	4. Four

**Author's Note**: This one took a little longer than I would have liked. Sorry guys, the weekend ate me. This seems to be getting sizable response, much to my surprise xD So much for something silly no one would take any notice of! Anyway, enjoy.

* * *

**Shadows of Mercy  
**Four

It was when he couldn't support her weight that the Doctor really began to worry.

Rose sank to the floor as if her blood had suddenly turned to stone, burying her head in her hands.

"Rose?" he shook her, hard, and said her name again with more and more insistence. He tried to pull her to him, bring her to her feet again, look her in the eye. But all she could seem to manage was curling into the ground, fingers press so hard against her skull she could have burst the skin. From her came whimpers, terrible sounds of pain and fear, and the Doctor felt helplessness peel away his layers of composure.

"Rose!"

He began shouting her name, but he knew it was useless.

"Please, Rose. I'm sorry, I didn't mean . . . "

Stroking back hair from her face, he lowered his head, examining her. She gave no indication she could sense his presence; giving a small cry, she rolled away from him, onto her back. Her entire body was tense. Eyes clamped shut and neck muscles strained like taught wires, her mouth was open in a silent scream.

For one of the first times in recent recollection, the Doctor had no idea what to do. Nothing came to him. No stunning ideas, no quick fixes with the sonic screwdriver. No answers.

And then he caught sight of something that almost made his hearts stop. Blood, trickling from Rose's ear.

Had he a god he would have sworn to it, prayed to it, begged it for forgiveness if only for Rose's life, which he was sure he was slowly but steadily losing.

Bending over her trembling body he closed his eyes, pushing thoughts through his mind that could at least be of some use. Think, his brain said. What were they doing, where were they walking – what _happened_? Fighting, arguing. A heated blaze of her momentary rage which had caught him by surprise. But there was nothing, _nothing_, that accounted for this.

With little other ideas he reached into a pocket of his jacket and withdrew a handkerchief, using it to wipe the ooze of warm iron from her skin. Then, watching her quieting body, he enclosed her in his arms.

"Rose?" Gently he shook her, but she gave no response. With quivering fingers he reached to her neck, just below her jawline. Holding her still, he counted. There was a pulse – but only just.

"Not now," he pleaded desperately, choking on tears he was steadily fighting to keep back. "After everything we've been through, everything we've done . . . Please, not now. Not like this."

The Doctor was right when he'd said everything had its time. He was right when he said everything died. But at the end of the day it wasn't to his call that the universe answered: it was to its own. The times and manners of death were always just beyond his fingertips, too far out of his reach to be anything but heartbreaking temptation. And he knew when the time came – when it really, truly came – there was nothing he could do.

But Rose Tyler's time wasn't up; the sand grains still trickled in the hourglass, the breath still haunted her lungs, and outside the Doctor's control there sparked a glimmer of hope, even as he bowed his head over hers in defeat.

So focused was he on the woman in his arms that at first he didn't notice the dust next to him becoming unsettled. With little care an object landed beside him, its smooth and shining surface becoming tarnished by a smattering of dry mud; yet it took the small clinking noise of another landing beside it for the Doctor to looked up in surprise.

He felt what little courage he had left wane at the sight surrounding him. His concentration on Rose had been so complete that, unawares to him, creatures had gathered all around him. They were clearly native to the planet, and not by any means born on earth. Their short, stumpy bodies gave way to leathery skin, knobbly in places a human's would be smooth. A thin lining of hair coated their bodies, but their heads were bald and rough. Two little ears pricked out on the sides of their heads, and two large eyes – the size of saucers – blinked down at him from every one. He glanced back and forth but in every direction there was a ring of them, trapping himself and Rose in the centre.

One of them, slightly bigger and broader than the others, was stepped forward; it had evidently been he who had thrown down the rings, now lying patiently beside the Doctor, their shine wearing thin in the dust.

He held a spear in one hand and promptly used to tip of it to point towards the object on the floor. Then, with his head, he indicated Rose, whose near-lifeless body was still clutched to the Doctor's chest.

"Put those on," came the gruff voice of the alien. "Or it'll be too late – for both of you."

The Doctor swallowed, letting out a breath steeped in trepidation. He glanced downwards, where he saw the pair of rings. Then he looked up again at the speaker. Questions flew to his mind as though returning home to roost and his mouth became suddenly very dry. But Rose's pulse was slowing and any questions he had could, for once, wait.

He scooped up the rings in his palm, letting the silt drain away between his fingers. Taking one of the rings, and setting the other briefly on his knee, he picked up Rose's hand and delicately slid the cold, metal band over the only finger it would fit: her fourth. He hesitated before picking up the second.

"That's for you," intoned the creature in a thoroughly bored voice; he sounded as though he had been instructed there by duty.

Aware of the eyes on him, and the fact that he was devilishly outnumbered, not to mention that they may not even be trustworthy, the Doctor took a moment before slipping the ring on himself. Rose hadn't as yet shown any signs of improvement.

"How can a ring save – "

His scepticism clearly could have been heard from the first word, as the alien interrupted him, his large, dark eyes blinking with sideways lids.

"The telepathic field is too much for her." His eyes stayed stalwart on the Doctor, his little hooked mouth drawn into a shape that spelt its own scepticism. "As it should be for you . . . The rings will bind your minds, keeping external thoughts away."

The Doctor watched his addresser carefully. "I already have a barrier against 'external thoughts'," he replied, edging away from being testy but very much aware Rose's life hung in the balance. His actions could mean her life. "What good could this do to me?"

The creature sniffed. "Nothing. To you." His eyes gained a faint, red glow around their edges, but it was gone again within the second. "Does your partner possess that same – barrier? Because if she doesn't you are letting her time run short. She needs an anchor, and rather one of her own species . . . If that's what you are."

The message was certainly clear, and as suspicious as the Doctor may have been, it wasn't as though he had any other ideas. At least from their alien friends a solution had been offered. So, hoping that he wasn't making a huge mistake, the Doctor placed the ring on his own finger.

At first, nothing happened; he couldn't detect the slightest change in himself or Rose. But then he became aware of a strange humming sound buzzing in his ears. It was quiet, and not altogether unpleasant, but it wasn't half distracting. He found himself shaking his head a little in surprise, as though trying to dislodge it.

In his arms, Rose took a deep breath, clambering back up the precipice of life. He looked to her instantly, noting the change in her features. They became relaxed, more gentle, as if she were simply sleeping.

"Rose?" he whispered quietly, daring to hope. But she gave no response.

There was a crunch of dust behind him as the creature came to his side, bending down with a hand outstretched towards Rose's neck. His hands, with three fingers and one thumb, was in strange discolourment, the surface a pinky-brown, but the palm the same shade as any human's. On instinct, the Doctor shielded Rose from him. The alien looked to him; his lids crossed over his eyes again, giving just two, vertical slits. But he withdrew his hand nevertheless.

"You are very distrustful for a trespasser," he remarked distastefully, hand tightening around his spear.

The Doctor's didn't miss the movement. "She hasn't woken up yet," he pointed out, speaking as though eh were choosing his words carefully. "Why should I trust you?"

There came a grunt in response. "Her mind is fragile and has been damaged. She will lay unconscious for a little while. In the meantime, I suggest you both come with us."

Given how the spearhead was waved in their direction, the Doctor got the impression that it was more than a mere 'suggestion'. He made to get to his feet – slowly, under the weight of Rose – but there was a sharp snap of fingers and immediately one of the inner circle surrounding them came forward, heading for Rose.

Before the Doctor could even make a move the spear was at his throat, the tip just shy of his Adam's apple. Swallowing, he felt it peel easily though the top few layers of his skin. No blood was drawn, but the warning was enough; it became an effort to keep his breathing even as anger and fear bled through his system.

His eyes met his captor's, the large darkness orbs watching him carefully.

"Harm her," the Doctor breathed through gritted teeth, "and you'll rue the day you ever set eyes on us."

The spear was pressed to his skin. "I hardly think you're in a position to be making threats," came the coarse reply. "You are lucky. If you had been just a normal one I would have killed you on sight."

"A normal what?"

The creature pointed back down through the woods, from where they had come from. "An animal – from the farm."

Processing the information quickly, and deciding it was probably best to stick to the immediate matter at hand, the Doctor said, "So if Rose and I aren't from your 'farm' – what are you going to do with us?"

The alien nodded to the other, who had Rose slung carelessly over his back, her arms dangling down towards the floor. Without a word he returned to the circle, where in one movement all of them began traipsing the pathway through the woods.

The Doctor's captor looked back at him, pointing towards the line. "You will follow them and make no discrepancies."

"But what are you going to _do_?" the Doctor asked, suddenly desperate. Long ago had he cast away thoughts of a clever escape; they were hardly going to be fooled by the psychic paper, and all the sonic screwdriver was useful for was pretending to be a bit menacing. He began following the others down the path as, instead of at his throat, the spear was charged between his shoulder blades.

The reply from behind him was almost malevolent.

"Interrogation."

~oOo~

One thing his mother had always told him was 'be grateful for small mercies'. This little gem of advice had stayed with the Doctor his entire life, always allowing him to see windows and opportunities in the strangest of places. When a situation seemed out of his control, somehow, he always remembered this advice and nothing was ever as bad as it first seemed.

Which was why, as he was frog-marched through the forest and out again the other side, surrounded by spear-carrying pygmies who probably wounded be averse to at least severely wounding him if he tried to escape, he was at least settled by the fact that Rose was kept in his line of sight the entire walk back. Her sleepful body, bobbing head and swinging arms made him gave him both nervousness and a dash of anger, but least under his sight she could come to no harm. No more than he had already put her in, anyway.

The suns were setting as, from the woods, they drew upon a village nestled into the foot of a steep hill. He couldn't tell how big it was at first, as around the perimeter there lay a large wooden wall, great slats of vined beams reaching higher than he could see. By the time they reached the outskirts of the village darkness had almost completely stolen the night, and soft fire and lamplight winked at him through the gaps in the wall.

There were two great doors ahead of them and, as the small army approached, these were pulled wide open, a huge gaping mouth leading to a belly of small huts.

In all honesty, as they crossed the threshold, the Doctor was more than surprised. Given the kind of technology he had seen operating back in the city he would have assumed the dominant party of the planet to be even _more_ sophisticated, its technological advances perhaps becoming more a hindrance than help. What he didn't expect was a rural, near stone-age village, with mud huts, thatched roofs and a smell that suggested their main source of food was agriculture. Neither did he expect rough, leathery creatures with grassy skirts for their clothes and spears for their weapons. It was all a bit incongruous with what he'd imagined as a main threat.

And what he knew of the human culture didn't support this either: humans, though brilliant, were ruthless, rising up and seizing control of almost everything they touched. If it wasn't about money it was about power, and neither of those were things human beings wanted to give up. It was all very strange.

As they got to the village, and the door closed behind them, most of his captors dispersed. Some of them quite clearly had families to return to as, without even a word to each other, they disappeared into a hut here or there.

The Doctor, however, was forced to keep walking. The ground beneath him gave a constant soft rumble, as if somewhere in the depths of the planet great giants were walking through the earth. Eventually the only people left were himself, his captor, and the alien holding Rose. Large, curious eyes were peeping out from behind the huts and trees as they passed, their whispers catching on the wind. Clearly this was not a usual occurrence.

They finally drew to a stop towards the middle of the village, outside an edifice that continued to surprise him. Where the other huts smattered around the village were simple, this one stood taller and prouder. It was larger than all the others, significantly – and though its walls were still mud and its roof still thatched, there was something unfitting about it, almost as if it was wearing a veil of the less advanced. The roof and walls were adorned with colourful flowers and buds, and in the mud there were markings that couldn't be distinguished into words. Outside it, beside which they were stopped, was a circular pool, bright fish darting around its waters and dainty plants floating atop it.

The spear was finally removed from his back, but the fact offered little comfort. It was pointed towards his feet, then waved around his arms.

"Remove them," said his captor, clearly indicating the Doctor's coat and shoes. Rose's trainers were already being pulled rather rigorously from her feet, and her pink hoody yanked from her shoulders.

"If it's all the same, I'd rather keep them on," the Doctor replied, pulling at his earlobe. "Never know when you'll have to – "

"Remove them," repeated the alien impatiently, "or we will have her killed."

The Doctor's eyes turned stony, humour and good will evaporating from him faster than a breath. Wordlessly he bent down and unlaced his Converse, slipping them from his feet along with his socks. Then he stood straight again, shrugging his shoulders to remove his trench coat. And all the while his eyes locked with his opposer's, his mouth set in a thin, hard line.

He had no idea if the threat was valid. There had been many a threat made since they had been surrounded, and had the Doctor been on his own he probably would have challenged them. What's more, he probably would have come out victorious. But when Rose's life was anywhere near at stake he (usually) became much more cautious, often landing them in more danger through his trepidation than otherwise.

Still – he had no reason to think these creatures wouldn't kill Rose, either. It seemed they wanted her, not to mention himself, alive: giving them the rings had proved that much. But whether it was just a feeble order they was following, the Doctor didn't have a clue. And without knowing too much about the situation, keeping one's head low was always the best option.

He felt his jaw twitch, the muscles aching.

"I meant what I said," he informed in a low voice, the kind that would make even the most lionhearted of men think twice about crossing him. "Harm her, and you will live to regret it."

The alien just blinked at him, his hooked mouth twisting slightly. He knocked the Doctor's arm with the spear, pushing him towards the entrance of the building, then signalled for the one carrying Rose to follow.

Feeling rather like he was about to walk into the mouth of a hungry lion, the Doctor pulled back the thin fabric hanging in the sweeping doorway and went inside.


	5. Five

**Author's Note**: Once again, sorry for the delay. What with spending time with loved ones and packing up to return to university (next week!) writing hasn't been at the top of my agenda. Still, this one has still stayed with me. Apologies also for this chapter in itself: it is more or less a massive conversation. But, there we go. It's how the chips fall sometimes, isn't it?

* * *

**Shadows of Mercy  
**Five

It was really more like a temple than anything else. That was his first impression. Grand walls, clearly made from marble, or something made very similar to marble. They were a warm shade of orange, their richness suggesting that wherever he was now he wasn't likely to find anyone in higher law. The floor, also, was lined with stone tiles, his reflection looking back at him when he glanced to them.

Strong pillars held up the roof, golden candle holders attached to the sides. The entire room was lit by these candles, the walls sporting several dozen of them, their flames dancing in the tepid air and casting shadows all along the floor. All along the walls were tapestries, woven from old thread, their pictures looking almost like cave paintings. It was quite beautiful.

Towards the other end of the temple there lay a tall throne and, sitting in it, another of the alien creatures. But as the Doctor approached he could immediately see this one's difference from the others, and perhaps why he had been chosen as their ruler.

He was broader and taller than the others, almost as tall as the Doctor himself. His skin looked somehow younger and more well cared for, his dark eyes speckled with white, like stars in the night sky. On his chest, as dark and glistening as ink, there lay an intricate symbol. What it meant the Doctor could only guess, but he imagined it had something to do with his clear power in the tribe. Next to his throne stood a staff, a glass ball at its tip.

The trio stopped just before the throne, a small level of steps leading upwards. Once again the Doctor felt the spear in his back and the word "kneel" was shot keenly in his direction. Obediently he dropped down to his knees, his body nearly shaking in his intense anger. Once Rose was awake and able to fight for herself, at least he wouldn't have to take orders. But until then, as she seemed safe enough for the moment, he would bite his tongue.

"These are the trespassers, Tarrl?"

The voice was heavy and regal, and it addressed the Doctor's captor. Tarrl, who was kneeling between the Doctor and the creature who held Rose, nodded.

"Correct, my liege."

"My suspicions were correct – they are not from the farm. Take the female underground. I will question the male myself. You are dismissed."

At the order, movement suddenly occurred in the room. First was from Rose's capturer, who got to his feet at the command and started towards a small opening in the side of the temple's walls. It was manned by two guards and covered by another veil, blocking all sight into what was behind it.

The second was the Doctor clambering to his feet before even thinking. However, he had little chance to react further as the two guards from the door came to him, clamping his arms in steely grips and holding him in place, while Rose's limp body disappeared behind the clothed door.

"Where are you taking her?" the Doctor roared, looking fiercely up to the emperor. "What are you going to _do_? Let me go right _now_ or I swear I will – "

The emperor heaved somewhat of a sigh. "Release him," he said blandly, waving a hand to the guards in the Doctor's direction. They did as told, immediately returning to their position by the door. "Tarrl, attend to your duties. I will take it from here."

Tarrl hesitated, evidently as suspicious of the Doctor as the Doctor was of him.

"I don't think that's a good idea, my liege," he said, his gleaming eyes fixing the Doctor in something of a glare. "Whatever this creature is, it isn't human. It could be dangerous."

"That's 'he', thank you very much," snapped the Doctor before he could stop himself.

"Indeed," sniffed the emperor. "And whoever he is, he clearly feels quite powerless. I doubt he will be much trouble. Once again, you are dismissed Tarrl. Don't make me say it a third time."

This was obviously quite a telling; Tarrl left without further word. He didn't even so much as glance back over his shoulder as he ducked beneath the entrance. The emperor stood, reached for his staff and approached the Doctor, their eyes almost level. The Doctor immediately felt himself withdraw from him, both from fear and distrust. The emperor paused.

"Come, now," he said smoothly, offering his hand gently, as though afraid the Doctor would bite it off. "There's no need to be like that."

"You've stolen my friend," the Doctor all but spat, his eyes livid and his hands in fists by his side. "Not only have you stolen her from my side, but you've kidnapped us both. I don't think you're in any position to tell me how to feel."

The emperor actually chuckled. "You are a fiery one, I shall give you that. I suppose I should assure you your – friend – is quite safe."

"Where is she?"

"She'll be in one of the underground chambers, set to rest. If it's as I gathered and the both of you came from the farm into our world without protection of the rings, her mind will be quite exhausted. She will need tending to before she awakes. Now then." The emperor turned sharply to the Doctor, his warm demeanour becoming slightly cooler. "I am Aldaroth Et'del, emperor of the people here. Who might you be?"

"The Doctor," said the man himself tersely. "And my friend in your captivity is Rose, and before I tell you anything else you are letting me see her."

Aldaroth shook his head sadly. "I'm afraid I cannot allow that. She is human. You are not. You must be kept under supervision until we know more."

"Then supervise me!" cried the Doctor, flinging out his hands in despair. "Cuff me up in chains and take away my dignity, if that's what you want, but I'm sworn to protect her and right now that's about all I've got."

Aldaroth considered him for a long time, his little mouth twitching as he ran his eyes head to toe over the Doctor.

"I am not without sympathy for you," he said eventually, his voice even and his breath deep. "But remember that you are our prisoner. If you are made a liability there are cells of dungeons waiting beneath this temple for your occupation. I can only stress that no harm will come to Rose while she is in our care. Once she has recovered, then you can see her. You have my word."

It was like two warring sides within him: one of them knew that he was already beaten, that bending to this race's whims was about the only way he was likely to make it out alive. The other was still struggling with the loss of Rose, with losing her to them and being entirely helpless on getting her back to his side.

"Your word?" he asked quietly, gauging the reaction accordingly.

Aldaroth nodded once more. "The sacrificial season is not upon us yet. From my people at least, neither of you have anything to fear." He indicated the front of the temple. "Now, walk with me, Doctor. We have much to converse."

He fell into step beside the other man, sliding his hands into his trouser pockets as he did so. "What's this sacrificial season, then?" he asked easily, his voice belying nothing of his actual fear. If they were a people of sacrifice, he needed to get Rose out of here very fast indeed.

"It is a time of joy for the tribe," imparted Aldaroth, his voice filling with wonder as they exited the temple. The Doctor briefly glanced to where he had taken off his shoes and coat; but any hope he might have been harbouring for their presence was severely dashed. He looked up as Aldaroth continued. "Two partners are sent for from the farm and they are brought here, to us. They are cared for and prepared until the suns are at their highest in the sky. Then they are taken to the Standing Stones, where they are tied down, and their throats are slit." The emperor stopped and stared up the hillside behind the village, his eyes becoming clouded in memory. "We drain them of their blood then fill their bodies with a valerian derivative. It's all necessary for the Harvest."

The Doctor swallowed, feeling suddenly thankful that rescuing Rose from restful unconsciousness was all he had to worry about. Aldaroth began walking through the village once again and, curiosity getting the better of him, the Doctor followed.

"So, those humans," he opened, Rose's arguments settling on his mind. "The ones in the city. That's a farm, you say?"

"We monitor their progress and keep their numbers manageable. They have been given a regenerative ecosystem in which to live, and everything they could want for, they have. It's quite humane. We only take from their numbers when the Harvest calls, when the Season is upon us." Aldaroth smiled as a child ran past them, laughing loudly as it was chased by another. "They are kept quite well."

The Doctor couldn't help but notice the irony of the term 'humane'; he knew it was the TARDIS' closest translation for what Aldaroth had said, which was at least a good thing. It showed she could still be found.

"The women," commented the Doctor quietly, feeling warmed by a breeze at it blew through the village. "They're subservient to the men?"

Aldaroth shrugged, tapping the tip of his staff to the floor. "That is a system the animals have built themselves. All we gave them was an environment in which to live and protection from the field. The rest is their doing."

"But you kill them," said the Doctor coldly, his feet imprinting on the planet's dusty surface as they walked. "Rose and I saw it. A man separated himself from his partner and then she was gone. Extinguished from life like a candle flame."

"She was useless to us. What good would have been to keep her amongst the stock?"

"But she was a human being! She had a life, she was a _person_!_" _The Doctor's roaring voice surprised even himself, and a strange quietness dawned on the village at his outburst. He breathed deeply, ignoring the eyes that had turned to him. Aldaroth, too, had seemed startled, and his hand clenched tightly around the staff in his hand. More quietly, the Doctor said, "It should stop. All of it. It should just – stop."

"You speak of things you don't understand," Aldaroth said dangerously, his voice suddenly like that of a predator rather than an equal.

The Doctor briefly closed his eyes. This conversation was a knife edge, a balancing act of whether or not he could prove himself a higher being. If reasonable, he might still stand a chance of getting away with his life in tact.

"I'm trying to understand," he offered in as tolerant a tone as he could muster. "I am. Open minded I may be, but you have to accept that I – and especially Rose – come from a place quite different to this. The rules aren't the same as they are here."

Aldaroth spread his arms, but his expression remained hard. "Then tell me, Doctor," he said, and it was immediately a command, "where do you come from? The two of you. Not from here, certainly. Your clothing says as much, never mind your questions."

The Doctor hesitated. It was a rule of thumb that on any planet he found himself, as little information as possible should be given away. There were secrets the Time Lord harboured that shouldn't have been given up as easily in an answer, and always when he felt questioned, his first instinct was to shut his mouth.

"We're travellers," was all he said.

But it was Aldaroth's answer that really pricked his ears up. "In the blue box."

Cautiously, the Doctor licked his lips, and replied, "Yes. That's my ship. You – have her?"

"Its presence alerted us immediately," affirmed Aldaroth, looking away from the Doctor in deep thought. "It was very foolish of you to land, as you did, amongst the stock. They have their own hierarchy; you should have been captured and made as one of them, part of their society. Yet you escaped." He looked up again, a faint, blue tint glowing around his eyes. When he spoke next, his voice was full of real curiosity. "How _did_ you escape?"

At this the Doctor couldn't help a small, proud smile to himself. Discretion being the better part of valour, he replied, "We had help. They're quite resistant to slavery, you know. Humans, I mean. They don't like it when you take away their choice."

Aldaroth blinked as though he didn't understand. "Their choice?" he wondered aloud, seemingly quite surprised by the idea. "But they're animals. They live and breed like animals. They war amongst themselves, let others of their race suffer so long as they can live as they choose. They destroy themselves with their own technology. We have watched them. At least under our care we have given their lives some purpose."

"Sacrificing them is purpose?" scoffed the Doctor, kicking at the floor with his bare foot. "I've got to say, I'm glad I'm not human." Then he looked up, a realisation peeping over his mind's horizon. "Is that why you live like this?" He indicated the simple huts and the rudimentary lifestyle. "Because given how that temple was built, you clearly have access to more powerful technology for creating and building things. But youchoose to live like this, don't you?"

"We have seen what abuse of resources can do to a race. It'll not happen to us again." A distance entered Aldaroth's eyes as he spoke, then, his voice quiet as though being carried by the wind. "Hundreds of years ago we were not so dissimilar. This land was once covered in great cities, all of them ruled by a king. We lived similarly to the humans, machines to do our bidding – never wanting for anything. But the wars . . . The terror and strife that reigned people's lives; the poverty, the death . . . It wasn't worth the lives we had built. The planet was dying and something needed to be done."

They were walking again, weaving between the huts, their shadows following them like ghosts.

"What happened?" asked the Doctor, his thirst for knowledge even more keen than his simple curiosity.

"Humans came," Aldaroth replied, and the sorrow in his voice told the Doctor all he needed to know about how that encounter had gone.

"They have a habit of doing that, once they hit space," offered the Doctor with sympathy. "Tend to assume it all belongs to them." He paused, lifting his head to gaze to the stars. Somewhere out there, in a distant time, lay a different kind of Earth from what it would turn into. An Earth where Rose was from, where she belonged. The thought stung his hearts. "Sorry," he whispered.

"It matters not," said Aldaroth, walking on. "That time has long passed. They warred with us and we lost, pushed back into the forests to hide, else expire from existence ourselves. But it was something that had to happen. We learnt from them the damage we had done to the planet and, by watching the humans, learnt of our own weaknesses through them."

The Doctor frowned, stealing a glance around the village. The soft lights cast dancing shadow across the ground, the occupants of the huts moving freely and easily about. The females of the tribe all had long hair, matted and tough from the lives they led, and the children ran around with no grass coverings at all on their bodies. It was a simple, if surreal, lifestyle.

"You seem to be troubled," Aldaroth commented, watching him interestedly.

The Doctor hummed a little, then turned back to his acquaintance. "Not troubled, no. It's just that if humans really are so advanced, as you claim they are, why haven't they fought back? Underground resistances are all very well, but none of them seem to think they can actually _do_ anything."

At this Aldaroth's mouth curved up somewhat in the corners, the hooked lips almost cruel. "They can't."

"What do you mean 'they can't'?"

"Doctor," Aldaroth chuckled, "their advancement was their own undoing. Without a connection to the planet they can only survive here so long."

The Doctor fixed Aldaroth with a hard gaze. "I don't understand."

"This planet is alive. It generates a field for itself, communicating with its inhabitants. But it is a communication entirely from the natural, not the artificial, and those too sucked in to their own technology block that connection. We have a strength over the humans, Doctor: the planet heeds our call and gives us all we need. In return we tend to it, keep it well. The selfishness of humans would have driven them to their own end; but we helped them. We gave them protection from the field so they wouldn't be harmed by it."

"Why?" The Doctor's voice was hurried, his eyes searching Aldaroth's for an answer he knew he wouldn't get.

"They were needed," replied the emperor wistfully. "Without a willingness to connect with the planet, their minds could not handle the strain of even being here and their race began to deteriorate, as ours had done. So we gave them the city, a protective pocket we have blessed from the planet's field. If they venture beyond the walls, their minds will become overpowered."

"Like Rose," said the Doctor gravely.

"Yes."

"So you keep them and you 'farm' them because – why?" He stood straight, slipping his hands into his trouser pockets as the rocked backwards on his heels. "What use are they to you? You could be quite sufficient here without resorting to slavery."

Aldaroth's eyes became suddenly darker, their depths flashing in the night. "We have a very short lifespan, Doctor."

The Doctor blinked. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Aldaroth pause and glanced away, tapping his staff into the dusty ground. As though coming to a decision he let out a sigh, looking back to the Doctor. "A human's blood has alarming qualities. When drained correctly it – "

He was interrupted by a sharp cry sailing through the air. Immediately both men turned, the Doctor tense and Aldaroth simply curious. Weaving through the huts in a somewhat hurried manner was one of the guards from the temple, his face seemingly set into a steady frown. He slowed as he approached the pair, ignoring the Doctor completely and turning instead to Aldaroth.

"Emperor," he breathed heavily, catching his breath, "the prisoner awakes. I was instructed to tell you."

"Very good," replied Aldaroth, nodding. "Return; tell them to expect my presence immediately."

As the guard hurried off again, the Doctor turned to the emperor, his fists clenched by his side. "Let me see her," he demanded icily.

"I hardly think that's – "

"Let me see her or this village will crumble to the ground at my hand."

The Doctor and Aldaroth stood staring each other down, as though the pair of them had been locked in a pocket of time. The emperor's response was quiet, dangerous.

"You don't possess the power for such an attack."

The Doctor's eyebrow twitched, his mouth drawn almost into a snarl. "Try me."

"How distrustful you are," Aladaroth murmured sadly. Then he held out one of his hands, indicating the village around them: lights twinkled and children played and, somewhere far below, the earth rumbled. "My people do not fear you: why do you fear us so? Why do you threaten us?"

"Generally, people have to earn my trust," the Doctor returned shortly, his usually warm eyes sharp like a knife tip. "And so far you've done nothing to appease my nature. From what I can gather you keep people – human beings – as slaves, then farm them for their blood. You've separated me from my good friend and have made it perfectly clear that any attempt on my part to interfere will be rewarded with her harm. You'll have to forgive me if I'm suspicious of your motives."

Aldaroth gave a long sigh, as though he were attempting to explain thermodynamics to a child who refused to listen.

"Come," he replied simply, his large eyes blinking in patience. "If you are so insistent upon seeing her, I suppose I cannot stop you." As they made to walk, Aldaroth suddenly slapped his staff to the ground, in front of the Doctor's feet. Though his eyes were still large, they held something within their depths that spoke of hidden dangers. "But take heed, Doctor: do not threaten my people lightly. You have stumbled upon us by mistake and we shall decide what is to become of you. Until then you are to respect matters as they stand, and do not intervene with our practices. They may be different from yours, but you are not in your world now."

The Doctor took a steady breath in through his nose, suspecting that whether he got to see Rose rested heavily on his answer. Slowly he nodded, his face impassive and his eyes hard and bright as diamonds.

"All right," he agreed solemnly. "Now. Take me to see her."


End file.
